


Ein Wunderschöner Albtraum

by freiline



Series: Dreams of Stars and Roses [2]
Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28171803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freiline/pseuds/freiline
Summary: "How could I miss this much… someone I've never met?"A nightmare so beautiful involving his deceased father pays Felix a visit, and all Alec can do in the aftermath is help comfort his distressed husband.A side oneshot that occurs after the second installment, however the details regarding the first two installments are vague and barely touched upon so no major spoilers. Can also be read independently.
Relationships: Alexander Siegfried von Lohengramm/Felix Mittermeyer
Series: Dreams of Stars and Roses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838443
Kudos: 4
Collections: Dreaming of Distant Stars I





	Ein Wunderschöner Albtraum

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, this takes place after the events of the second installment, however the details of the first two installments are vague and barely touched upon so there won't be any major spoilers (also because as of writing this beginning note, the first installment isn't even halfway finished and I have yet to plan out the details for the second installment). Also, there's actually no need to read the series that this is a part of and it can be enjoyed independently, so there's that.
> 
> Alec and Felix should both be at least 40 years old already in this oneshot? As I've said, I have yet to work out the details for the second installment so I can't say anything with certainty, but I'm quite certain that after I'm done (hopefully) writing the second installment they would be in their early 40s by this time.
> 
> Anyways! I hope you enjoy this hurt/comfort fic!

_"Meyer von Reuenthal." A foreign name._

_A foreign name spoken in the haze of an almost whisper, barely audible yet echoing clearly within the confines of his soul. The dark-haired man that stood before him had called him by a foreign name and yet, in this blur of a reality, he somehow responded._

_"I_ know _, I_ know _. I'll keep away my brushes once they've dried!" Fe—no._ Meyer _whined in the typical cadence of an annoyed teenager about to be lectured by a parental figure, eyebrows knitted and a frown aptly in place._

 _Years of fatherhood (and present experience with a rebellious teenager) did nothing to quell the frustration that the taller male was now experiencing, and no one could blame him for it. "Don't you_ ever _raise your voice against me like that ever again." The man with hair so dark a brown it was almost black and bewitching eyes that were mismatched hues of brown and blue, rumbled in a low voice carrying with it all the authority a parent could possess._

_He stared down at the young teenager with a stern expression and folded his arms across his chest. "They're dry enough, are they not? So go keep them away and get changed. Your Uncle Wolfgang and Aunt Evangeline will be arriving shortly, you have to look presentable in front of your godparents."_

_"You just don't want to lose the bet you made with Uncle Wolfgang," Meyer mumbled under his breath in a mocking tone and immediately jumped into action when his father took a threatening step forward._

_A part of him was aware that the scene unfolding before him was equally as strange as the name that had been used to call out to him, and yet the dread and frustration he was now experiencing lived and thrived underneath his skin, pulsating beneath the pads of his fingertips and flowing through the rest of his body._

_The man before him was unfamiliar too. Or at the very least, a small part of Felix that currently resided within the recesses of Meyer's mind only knew of the man from large portraits and holographic images, all of which were unable to accurately display the sheer magnitude of the magnificence that this man currently exuded. The dignity so evident in his posture, the gravitas of his demeanour, and the might in his voice that told clear as day of the many he's had under his command up until recently. This man, who in this universe Meyer knew to be his father Prime Imperial Marshal Oskar von Reuenthal, was a man so unfamiliar to Felix yet so close to Meyer._

_Were Meyer and Felix not one in the same?_ 'No' _, Felix insisted in Meyer's mind._ 'I am not you, and you are not me. My father is dead' _, he insisted,_ 'this man is not my father' _. Yet when Meyer spoke in unjust retaliation against his perfectionist of a father, Felix understood those words to be his own as well and felt his annoyance equally as much._

_The mist between this hallucination of a fantasy and what Felix understood to be his reality soon blurred before his eyes and the scene transitioned from daytime to nighttime. They both still stood in the living room of the Reuenthal mansion, but now the moon took the sun's place up above and the atmosphere was different. What could have once been described as typical banter between parent and child was now dashed with something much thicker; it hung heavy in the air and suffocated both father and son._

_Meyer's hands were balled up tight into fists by his sides, his heart racing from the vigour of his anger and his mind nothing more than a cloud of rage. What it was that enraged Meyer so, Felix was entirely unaware, however he was certain that in this current timeline, the follies of hormones could not be blamed for anything; they were supposedly older now, perhaps in their mid twenties. But once again he felt Meyer's frustration like his own, and Felix was forced to face the truth of the matter: he was Meyer von Reuenthal, and the boy that was originally known as Felix Mitteremeyer did not exist._

"Meyer von Reuenthal!" Oskar bellowed. It was his disbelief at what had just been previously lashed at him, a blunt attack on his character, that kept him to some pretense of maturity still. "You take that back this instant!"

Was it any consolation that his father now too shared the same anger he was made to feel? No, it was not. There was no way that his father felt the same level of fury he was now cursed with, and it was the devil on his shoulder that pushed him into unleashing the full might of his temper; the blow he would inflict upon his father be damned for the catharsis of his distress. Anything to be rid himself of and push unto others the exasperation he wanted anyone else but himself to feel.

"No, I won't! You know as well as I do that this was why my mother left you!"

_Mother? Who was it that he called mother?_

The memory of his mother was so distant a thing, and yet it festered beneath the layers they had both piled up on top with beautified imageries to cover the ugly truths of their past. Meyer was not born out of love, and though he was now adored by both his father and the godparents who he saw as his parents as well, that would not change the fact that he was initially unwanted and his birth was much so undesired.

What was it they were arguing about? What pushed him into dealing such a low blow? _No, wait, I regret what I said, I'm sorry father please forgive me—_

* * *

Felix awoke with a jolt and he quickly sat up on the bed, his breathing now shallow and his heartbeat rapid. His hands took refuge in his hair and he gripped onto the dark strands tightly, allowing himself a few seconds to absorb all that had just transpired and also to regulate the beating of his racing heartbeat that was now fueled with his regret.

_Oh no, I've hurt him. I've hurt him! How could I have hurt him like that?!_

The brunet immediately rose up onto his feet with the full intention of running towards his father's bedroom—hurry, he needed to apologise and make amends now! But the moment he stood up and was faced with the stillness of the night, reality sunk in.

It was all a dream. Meyer von Reuenthal did not exist, and his father was still long dead.

Felix stood there for a few moments completely motionless. The dream had felt so vivid that he _swore_ he could still feel the strain in his voice from his scream, although logic dictated that if he really had screamed then he would have awoken the other man that slept beside him.

 _Alec!_ Felix instantly remembered.

He sharply turned to look back towards the bed and released a heavy sigh, relieved to see that his husband was still under the peace of slumber and that his current plight had not disturbed him.

Felix knew that he couldn't stay in their room for now, at least not until he was entirely grounded back into this reality and he could no longer hear the slightly pained shout from his biological father that he so cruelly elicited. His feet were quiet yet heavy with a grief he could not eloquently describe, as he made his way over to the door and exited the room. For now he would head to the living room to calm his nerves, and hopefully soon enough the horrors of his dream would come to pass.

* * *

Alec awoke to the instinctive realisation that something was amiss in his immediate environment.

Gradually, the blond monarch stirred in his sleep from the chill of the winter night elevated by the lack of warmth that was typically present by his side. Still not conscious enough to be deemed as awake, his body had to rely on what came second nature to him for survival, and that was his proclivity to reach out towards the other side of the bed and pull close to him the familiar comfort his husband would always provide. He expected to find slender limbs and lean muscles more than willing to be tugged into his embrace, but instead he was met with the vague hint of human warmth that lingered on the mattress from when his husband previously laid on it.

Despite his groggy state and the haze of sleep still veiling his mind, the nagging reality that their nest was missing one of the two that was supposed to be there was enough to rouse Alec up into a sitting position and glance about their room in search of his mate. There had been times when he would find Felix curled up on the sofa in their bedroom nursing a book in his hand, and that was usually enough to pacify Alec and allow him the peace of slumber, under the knowledge that his mate was safe and sound in their room together with him.

But this time around, Felix was not there. There was no dim light from the lamp situated on the little table at one end of the sofa, there wasn't the quiet shuffling of pages being flipped, and there wasn't the presence of his husband where Alec would usually find him.

Their nest was incomplete, and Alec needed to make sure that his reason for existence was safe.

Quickly, yet not quickly enough because sleep still had a tight hold of him, Alec slipped out of bed and left their bedroom. His feet took him to the living room of their suite and he forced his eyes to see past the shroud of darkness of the night. As quickly as the fear of his paramour's disappearance brought him to his feet, his heart stilled and his mind stopped racing with indescribable terrors upon seeing Felix stood by one of the windows that overlooked their garden, safe and alive.

He looked as ethereal as he always did, the moon reflected in his colours and its luminous rays highlighting the arch of his cheekbones, filtering through the glass panes that separated them from the outside world. But something was wrong, Alec could tell as much, and the sight of Felix with no bodily harm inflicted onto him wasn't enough to entirely dissuade the strong sense in his gut. There was the shadow of a storm within Felix and he could sense that his dark-haired husband wasn't okay. Perhaps it was useless to ask if that truly was the case, but Alec asked nevertheless.

He slowly stepped closer, his footsteps light and his voice even softer, careful not to startle the brown-haired man. "Felix? Are you alright?"

The call of his name—the name lovingly given to him by his mother Evangeline, and not the one that belonged to that strange version of himself that existed in the hazy alternate reality birthed from his dream—was a chill that shivered down his spine yet grounded him to reality.

This was reality. He was Felix von Lohengramm. Not Meyer von Reuenthal. He was husband to the Kaiser of the Galactic Empire, and Prime Minister of the dominion that their fathers both built from the ground up with blood and priceless sacrifices. Their fathers who were both dead.

His father was dead, and there was no bringing the dead back. Even though all he wanted more than anything in the universe at that moment was to make that saccharine dream a reality.

Felix turned in surprise when he heard Alec call for him and all of a sudden, the surge of emotions he had been trying his best to qualm into some semblance of manageable came gushing out from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

Alec was visibly alarmed by his husband's sudden burst of tears but showed no hint of surprise, as though he was long prepared for whatever Felix would throw at him but at the same time unaware of what that might have entailed exactly. Logical deduction and analysis gave way for pure instinct—his other half was hurt and he needed to sooth whatever pains now ailed him—and Felix found Alec swiftly right in front of him, a hand immediately cradling his cheek while the other soothingly rubbed the small of his back.

"Shhsh, it's okay, everything is alright. You're fine, we're safe, the danger has passed." Alec cooed gently as he wiped away with his thumb the steady flow of tears that seemed never ending in their torment of his husband. Tender was never a word one would use to describe Alec and yet that was what he was now, delicate in his touch and tender in his voice.

"N-No, it's not— That's not why I'm—" Felix tried to explain but was rudely restrained by the ghost of his dream that persisted at the very top of his consciousness.

He was certain that Alec assumed he had a nightmare reliving the horrors that they faced during the past war, but that wasn't it. In a way this was worse, because it was deceivingly sweet on the surface but come the next day, it would morph into a visual that would haunt you until the end of your days, one that even the most unspeakable of horrors could never hope to achieve.

It was a deceptive dream, no, a dishonest nightmare, no. It was a beautiful nightmare made so by the unsettling fact that it would never become a reality.

Alec waited patiently, ever the loving spouse that he was, for Felix to speak but didn't stop in his task of beridding Felix of the pesky tears that had no place on his dearest's features. A small part of Alec grew hopeless and upset that he couldn't stop Felix's sadness in its tracks or shoulder the weight of it all for him, but the sentiment was self-serving at best and Alec's top priority at the moment was to serve Felix as best as and in any way he could.

Eventually the cries mellowed down into quiet sniffles that allowed Felix to retell the events of his dream, and Alec listened attentively to every little detail. The moments Felix would get choked up again, Alec would hold him close for a tight embrace that inspired a sense of security and comfort, and he would allow Felix to grow some distance between them when the dark-haired man resolved to continue on.

Still in the protection of his husband's loving embrace, Felix soon insisted on wiping away his own tears and he stubbornly rubbed at his eyes in hopes that it would encourage them to stop unnecessarily leaking. Soon enough they did as commanded and stopped expelling tears from wherever it was they seemed in unlimited supply of, but Felix's voice still retained evidence of what had just transpired and he doubted it would go away any time soon.

"I don't... I just..." Felix began and trailed off, not really knowing where he was going with all this yet feeling the strong need to release it out somehow. His next words came out in an anguished sob.

"How could I miss _this_ much… someone I've never _met_?"

Felix's words were a direct blow to Alec's chest and the pitiful tone in his husband's voice strung a chord deep within him. He's had dreams of his own father before as well, of the great Kaiser Reinhard von Lohengramm who built the foundation of a dynasty with the corrupted nobles behind his back and the enemy that was the former Free Planets Alliance charging straight towards him. History made him out to be an unstoppable force worthy of the epithet Löwenartig Kaiser, and his tale was so legendary that at times Alec doubted that such a man had even been born to begin with, let alone that he was a direct descendant—he was the lion emperor's son but the male cub grew to embody the spirit of a different animal.

It was something Alec could empathise with in theory, Felix's current situation, but there was more to it than that. Felix's relationship with his biological father, the late Fleet Marshal Oskar von Reuenthal, was different from that of which Alec shared with his own. And who could blame him? Although his mother had tried her hardest to share relatable anecdotes and amusing incidents of his late father, the stories they've heard of Reinhard came primarily from historical texts and bedtime stories mothers would tell their offspring. His aunt, Princess Annerose von Grünewald, had also recounted stories from his father's childhood, sure, and that indeed brought more insight into the man who preceded him. But ultimately, the person who would have had the most to tell, if he had lived long enough to see Alec's birth at all, was the late Fleet Marshal Siegfried Kircheis—an unspoken opinion that many in the Empire shared was that the one silver lining to his father's death was that the lion emperor was then finally allowed his well deserved reunion with his red-haired other half.

Oskar von Reuenthal, on the other hand, came to life in the tales that Felix's father would tell them in earnest affection for the close friend he lost. The retired Prime Imperial Marshal Mittermeyer would recount the countless petty bar brawls the Imperial Twin Ramparts would find themselves in and how they would flee the scene at the speed of lighting, sprinting down the streets in a chorus of jovial laughter that the two young boys could almost hear from the fervour in Marshal Mittermeyer's account. Marshal von Reuenthal's death wasn't brushed aside or made into a nuisance in the corner that they couldn't disregard. Instead, his life was honoured in the Mittermeyer household; from meager displays like simple photographs of the two best friends by the fireplace, all the way to more sentimental gestures such as the married couple's readiness in answering anything and _everything_ Felix wanted to know about his deceased father.

Through all of these deeds, whether they be subtle or direct, intentional or not, Felix's parents had breathed life into a man who had passed long before his time.

So much that it was almost as though he had never died to begin with.

Alec presumed that the undesirable effect their actions had on their son was not something most could have anticipated, and it went without saying that it would have been far more undesirable if they had done otherwise. The Mittermeyer couple did well in fostering a healthy relationship between a son and his deceased father, and there was no doubt that open communication and transparency were far better in the long run than secrecy and ignorance.

Perhaps there was nothing that anyone could have done to prevent Felix's longing for his dead father, even if he loved and greatly adored the father he now had with him all the same. Perhaps this would be Felix's cross to bear henceforth and until the end of time, and tonight may not be the last they'll see of Felix's vulnerability and yearning. And perhaps all Alec could do to help ease his beloved's pain was to stay true to the promise he made in the very depths of his heart, that he would accompany Felix on his journey until his dying breath.

Alec didn't know how to respond, didn't know what he could say that would provide some level of comfort that was more than just empty assurances and false hopes. They couldn't bring Felix's father back from the dead, no matter how rapidly technology would advance in the near future, and there was nothing they could do to remedy the root of this entire distress. Alec was certain that Felix knew that better than anyone else.

He also knew that Felix wasn't expecting an answer from him—either way, there was nothing he could say to change anything. And so, wordlessly, the blond monarch simply leaned forward to rest his forehead against Felix's and he resumed rubbing the other male's back with his hand soothingly. Felix's arms found their way around Alec's torso and they remained like that for a few moments, Alec providing all the comfort his presence allowed him to give and Felix allowing himself to take in as much of it as he could.

Tonight, Felix allowed the very horrors that resided deep within his soul to do their worst, and tonight he allowed his husband privy to the aftermath of it all.

Soon enough, Felix's heartbeat slowed down to a steady rhythm and Alec took that as the moment to inch away slightly and press a light kiss to Felix's forehead. With a soft smile on his face that was dimly visible from the night still enveloping them, Alec murmured.

"Do you want to eat some ice cream?"

It was a question that was so out of place given the current situation, yet so characteristically straightforward of Alec that Felix couldn't help but let out a snort. Instead of feeling the least bit offended, Alec's smile grew at the knowledge that Felix was feeling better enough to laugh at any degree.

"Do you even know where the ice cream is kept, Alec-sama?" Felix quipped and raised an eyebrow up at Alec.

Alec plastered on his best act of taking offence and countered. "How rude. You know that I've been robbing the kitchens of ice cream for the two of us since we learnt how to walk."

Felix chuckled but quickly fell back into their lighthearted rally. "Exaggerations don't suit you, Alec-sama. Leave the dramatics to me."

As (arguably) quick as Alec turned their conversation around, the younger male clicked his tongue and grumbled in genuine annoyance. "One day, I'll declare it an act of treason for you to call me anything but 'Alec' and 'my love'. Mark my words."

They've been romantically involved with one another for a handful of years now, and a fraction of that was spent in matrimony. Despite their heavy inclination towards familiarity, not to mention their shared childhood and teenage years, Felix had yet to shake off the habit of referring to Alec in a more formal manner. The renowned 'von Lohengramm' title, in all its splendour and veneration, was now attached at the end of both their names, yet Felix insisted on making clear the line between ruler and subject. It was so alienating that sometimes Alec didn't like when Felix called out to him, because he knew what would follow next and that was so disheartening a thing that it was not worth the pleasure of hearing his name leave Felix's lips.

Felix understood that it was a habit he ought to break soon enough. He knew how it upset Alec, and any moment where Alec was in any way unhappy was a blow to his person all the same. But it was hard to break free from something he'd so long been accustomed to, and it would take a while more for the habit to be entirely discarded.

All he could do now was try to lighten the air with an innocuous joke. "Will you visit me in prison often, at least?"

"Okay, no, that's not funny," Alec mumbled and looked down at their feet.

The blond male was fully aware that he was the one who started the entire topic and now he felt some level of guilt over it, for bringing it up and then deciding so speedily that he had enough. Felix knew this and chose not to poke at Alec for it, instead letting the conversation be tugged towards the direction Alec commanded that it go and gently rubbing his back.

"Let's go back to ice cream." Alec decided and Felix said nothing against it. "Sugar is good for emotional distress. You could get some chocolate too?"

Felix broke into a fond smile. Alec had always had a penchant for sweet treats, and it was not at all atypical for him to recommend anything sugary as relief for what he aptly labelled as 'emotional distress' (despite how jarring the bluntness of it was, though Felix never expected any sort of beating around the bush with Alec). 

Letting emotion take over him again for a moment, Felix tiptoed ever so slightly to press a chaste kiss to his husband's cheek. Alec was briefly startled by the sudden gesture—their kisses, no matter the degree, were primarily initiated by Alec, and he never really understood Felix's relationship with intimacy because his dark-haired husband was completely fine with sending him handwritten love letters but so inclined to avoiding physical displays of affection. Regardless, he chose not to comment and instead appreciated it for what it was, responding to Felix's spontaneity with a growing smile.

The sweet moment was short lived, however, as Felix then proceeded to tease Alec over another matter. "I certainly hope that you're not making use of this opportunity to eat more sweet treats then I recommended your limit be."

"Of course not." Alec was never really an opportunist, though Felix had introduced the idea into his mind and he was now all the more inclined to directing them both to the kitchens. "But, honestly. Are you feeling better?"

Felix blinked up at Alec. There was no questioning that he was in a far better position now than he was when he first woke up, but the shadows of his dream still lingered at the back of his mind. This would do for now, however, and perhaps some ice cream really would aid in compensating for the little surge he needed left to feel as human as he normally did.

And so, he smiled up at Alec. "I'm feeling a lot better, all thanks to you. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"Don't be." Alec shook his head and the pads of his fingertips began to draw vague shapes on Felix's back. He leaned in closer and murmured. "I'd rather be awake and comforting you in any way I can than be sleeping through you suffering. Wake me up the next time you have a nightmare like that again, okay? Promise me."

Felix chuckled lightly and found it an odd request, asking to be woken up from a potentially good sleep, but he was cut off by Alec asserting his earnest plea and his blond husband gazed straight into his eyes. Unwavering. "Promise me, Felix. Promise me that you'll wake me up."

Felix felt his heart physically leap from out of his chest and attempt to bridge the gap between himself and Alec's, but of course that was impossible and so instead, emotions began to well up inside him once more. This time it was not for the longing of someone long gone, but for the immense affection he held for his husband. These emotions pushed Felix forward enough to completely erase the distance between them and he pressed his lips against Alec's for a fervent kiss, pouring all of his love and admiration into it and pressing himself flush against Alec's chest.

He felt Alec stiffen, no doubt from the shock of witnessing a man who was usually calculative in his actions suddenly act so forward and brazen, but the blond male was quick to ease into the kiss and Felix brought his hands up from Alec's back to cup his husband's cheeks tenderly.

Each and every kiss Felix shared with Alec, regardless of the frequency in which they displayed their love for one another, was like a surge of oxygen Felix never knew he needed until then. It was like he didn't know how to breathe before, but then they kiss and life finally surges into him. How he had gone so long without Alec's kisses was truly beyond Felix's comprehension; now he needed Alec as much as he needed air, and perhaps even more than that because what was the point in breathing if Alec wasn't by his side?

Felix loved Alec with everything that he had, everything that he was, and everything that he would be in their future together. Till death do them part, and even after that, Felix would stand by this man who'd gone above and beyond and showered him with all the adoration a person could ever desire.

Eventually they broke apart for air and Felix rested his forehead against Alec's. He took a deep breath and, despite himself, agreed to Alec's request in a quiet whisper. "Okay. I promise. Thank you."

Alec understood why Felix thanked him, however truth be told he felt almost as though it was _he_ who should be thanking Felix. He knew how big an undertaking he was asking of him; he had basically just asked of Felix to tear down all of his immaculately bricked walls, and to forget all that he'd been taught. Alec justified to himself that at the end of the day, it was all for the greater good. They were partners in marriage, husbands bound in matrimony; what good would barriers do between two who had become one entity?

Felix shouldn't have to suffer on his own, either. And Alec refused to let that happen.

"I love you, Felix." Alec's voice was raw and brimming with all the love any human could feel for another.

He'd been in love with this brilliant man for as long as he could remember, all he remembers is loving Felix with such a burning passion that it was all consuming and all enveloping. He loved him when they were mere children who knew nothing about the world. He loved him when they were teenagers discovering themselves for the first time and still finding room for one another. He loved him when the reality of their circumstances forced them apart and kept them from where they belonged. He loves him now, in the radiant gleam of their marriage and the bright future that lay before them. And he would continue on to love him in Valhalla, or whatever it was that awaited them in the afterlife.

Felix was his home, his life, his everything. They've already done their growing, they've already grown into themselves and achieved all they had set out to accomplish as individuals. All that was left now was to return home to one another and to nurture the next chapter in their life, and Alec thanked daily all who were listening in on his thoughts that Felix agreed to spend the rest of eternity together with him.

The dark-haired royal—it was still a foreign concept to him, that he sat beside Alec in the throne room and had some say in the fate of the empire his father had died for—ran his thumbs across the arch of Alec's cheekbones, taking his time to bask in the moment and catalogue every little detail, every small fleck and every once of life he could find in the man that mattered to him most.

"I love you too, Alec." Felix whispered back, the terrors of the night finally forgotten and replaced with the beauty of their love.

"More than you can ever imagine."


End file.
